I'm considering a group of minions for my comic, but I have too many ideas. I'm posting the names and brief descriptions of my characters, and will let you post which ones you like, and why you like them. I would have made this a poll, but it would only let you vote for one of them.

"Whose Line" Guy- A man who believes he's on "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" He will be constantly improvising varios different parts of the show.

Chicken Chick- A woman waering a chocobo outfit. She thinks she's a chicken, despite all evidence to the contrary.

"Whose Line" Guy: Meh, I think it'd be too easy for his 'screen-time' to devolve into zany, Bob-and-George-esque silliness.

Chicken Chick: Again, not too thrilled wth her. She just doesn't have much potential.

Captain Pirate: Him, I could take or leave.

Hula Dude: No. Just... No.

Paranoid Girl: This is where it starts getting good. Paranoid Girl has serious potential.

Vague Person: positive comment

Fan Girl: Fan Girl's personality lends herself to a villainous role; she probably starts as obsessed with a 'bishie' on the party's team, gets brushed off, and becomes enraged. The villians find her, and use that to recruit her.

Ms. Communication: I think she'll make a good secondary villian: one who's generally just there, and doesn't do much; she would make a good comic relief character who's generally not following the conversation at hand, and whose non-sequitor comments to her clients are oddly apropos to the situation, etcetera, etcetera. Alternately, she could be a middle-management villian, who has the unpleasant (and poorly performed) duty of informing the underlings of the overlings' wishes.

Brother Grimm: I've always liked the idea of the 'evil cleric' villian, and approve of his inclusion in the comic. Love the pun, too.

Chow Man: No, I don't think so. He's going to be a bit hard to get the point of across, and he doesn't have much potential in my eyes...

"I meant," said Iplsore bitterly, "what is there in this world that makes living worthwhile?"
Death thought about it.
"CATS," he said eventually, "CATS ARE NICE."

I likes 'em all. There are two reasons I say this, the first being that they are all awesome. The second, of course, is that I wish to elevate my status in the eyes of the all-seeing, all-knowing overlord Spritemeister.

I really do like them, though. Even though you totally STOLE Chicken Chick from June.

Chaos, panic, and disorder...my work here is done.

"Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today
I wish that man would go away."
-Hugh Means

Wait, what do you mean I stole it from June? If you look, I posted CC's sprites in the first SpriteMeister Contest. Way to appease me, Sil.

Thanks to everyone for your input, I shall take these into consideration. Though, I would like your opinions on how many a good amount of people for a "Minion Group" is.

And lastly, Orange, they are meant to be the Group-That-Always-Travels-Togehter-And-Have-No-Significant-Authority, not just random minions throughout the ranks of the Evil Guy's (Not his/her real name) army.

Last edited by SpriteMeister on Thu Sep 27, 2007 7:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.

I think that Orange's idea does have some merit, though. The main characters could fight the average grunts and randomly scattered monsters, and these guys could be either NPCs, bosses, or a selection of both.

Chaos, panic, and disorder...my work here is done.

"Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today
I wish that man would go away."
-Hugh Means

Well, see... You know how in some games there is a set of recurring enemies that are put in for storyline/comic relief purposes, rather than as an actual challenge in battle (i.e. Solt & Peppor form Chrono Cross and Ultros from FF6)? That's what I had in mind when I made these characters.

There hasn't been much in the way of communication here, for all the talking we've been doing.

I knew that the TAG would be incompetent and more comedic than challenging, but was under the misapprehension that they would be members of Evil Guy's organization. I was just providing ideas for what could happen to get them into the TAG/what they could do/my thoughts. The ones inapplicable due to my mistaken thoughts re their orginization can be discounted.

In addition, I think that five is a good number for the TAG; it's a good number in and of itself, and it;s how many people are in the hero's party(unless I'm farther ahead than you've posted yet. If so, it's just a good number. OOoooOOOohhh, does Orange know something you don't, Silf? Or is he just messing with your head?~~~)

"I meant," said Iplsore bitterly, "what is there in this world that makes living worthwhile?"
Death thought about it.
"CATS," he said eventually, "CATS ARE NICE."

Orange: I never said they weren't Evil Guy's minions, I just said that they weren't in various positions of power. If the Ultros example threw you off, I'm sorry, I couldn't think of a better example at the time.
Oh, and FYI, there are six 'heroes' in the main party, not five. OOoooOOOohhh~~~
But even that's just for the SFFMW storyarc. The 'main' party will consist of about... 9-12 characters.
...So yeah, six seems like a fair number to me.

As a matter of fact, I already have Orange working on sprites for Brother Grimm, and somebody else is also on the list for keepers. As for Captain Pirate, I did promise a certain alto saxophone player I'd include him...

Okay, so here's a piece I made for a creative writing class I'm taking. I figured I might as well post it here and see what everyone thinks of it, since it's about Brother Grimm. It's about two pages long in Word, so it may take time to read campared to other posts on this forum.

SFFMW- Totally Awesome Group

Six travelers, misplaced in the universe, are working their way through the bright blues, greens, and oranges of the pixellated landscape, which watches with beady black eyes as they pass. Suddenly, the colors darken and grey; the electronic music turns minor, then dissonant, then lastly, silent; the happy white clouds bear frowns and fade into dark thunderheads.
Blacklit smoke pours from the ground somewhere in front of them, blocking their already limited two-dimensional view of the way ahead, and collects in a mass just a few pixels taller and wider than the average person. As the smoke starts to fade, they notice their visitor’s hair: short—eyebrow’s length—parted, and dark red, like thick blood. His attire, in contrast with his hair (and similarly, his eyes), is that of a member of the clergy. His most prominent feature, however—only noticeable once the smoke has cleared—is a deep aura that seems to represent the power within him that has made the scene so gloomy.
He opens his mouth, and in a low, yet dramatic voice, he recites,
“Good evening. I am Brother Grimm,
And my boss has sent me on a whim.
If you continue to roam
And you don’t head straight home,
Then your chance of survival is slim.”
Taph, a young woman, wearing a loose white robe trimmed with light red triangles, steps forward, her face stern, and flares, “And just what is that supposed to mean? Are you threatening us?”
Brother Grimm instinctively leans away from the sudden outburst, but calmly replies in his normal, slightly hypnotic voice, “No, I am not threatening you. I am warning you. You should go home before things get out of hand.”
“We are looking for our way home, actually,” says Hatche, an experienced-looking axe-fighter wearing heavy armor, as he steps forward alongside Taph, “We’re currently trying to figure out how to get back, while merely helping out people in need as we travel along.” A light breeze blows around his unkempt hair, as if to point out that he is your typical ‘unlikely hero’.
“Well, you should just skip all of that hero-ing business and get out of here soon. People have been doing fine around here without you. You are only going to get yourselves into trouble.”
This time Sabe steps forward to speak, brushing his long white hair back past the feather sticking out of his fedora, “‘Doing fine’? We just saved a town from famine. They wouldn’t have survived without our help.” The breeze blows his vermilion cape back, revealing some light chainmail, a rapier and a couple scrolls.
“They can handle it. They have before.” Brother Grimm’s tone sharpens and his brow starts to furrow.
“But this was the worst one to happen for as long as anyone can remember,” Sabe explains.
“They’re a low-class, diseased, illiterate village. How are they going to be able to compare severity of things when they can’t even keep track of them?”
“That’s why they need our help!” Rod shouts, in a surprisingly high-pitched voice, with yellow eyes intensifying as the words are said, covered partially by a pointed straw hat. A movement under the light blue robe signifies a foot moving forward.
“They would not need your help if you were not there. Your presence is what reminds them that their lives are not perfect. Your offer for help is what causes them to think of what they could be helped with. Your mere presence makes fate feel compelled to give you something to do, at the expense of those you are supposedly helping.”
“But their lives turn out better in the long run,” insists Hatche, reaching toward his sword.
“Besides, it’s not like it’s much of a burden on us. It helps to pass the time, and we always get rewarded, whether it be by the village we saved or the cave we explored,” Dagg sets his hand on Hatche’s shoulder. All the breeze serves to do for him is to move the free end of his leaf-green bandana and the one tuft of brown hair sticking out front.
“Fools! Heed my warning! You’re going to get yourselves into something you’ll never get out of if you do not head straight home!” His aura flares, looking more like a black flame than an outline. The scene darkens even more, to where it’s now hard to even distinguish outlines. The silhouette of a scythe flashes where Grimm has been standing.
The only things visible now are the glow from the palms of Rod’s gloves, now tinted orange; a small area around Taph, illuminated by her divine power; and the light glinting off of Hatche’s armor.
Knowing the importance of a healer in a group, Grimm takes a slash at Taph. She raises her arms just as the blow lands, ripping through her robe. It goes dark around her again, and Grimm hears the thud of her body on the ground.
As he heads for the next magic user in line, Rod, a dagger sticks into his side. Trying to ignore the blow, he keeps moving forward. He reaches back to take a swing at Rod, when an axe swings by his head, barely missing. Turning to look at his attacker, he sees Sabe coming at him with a rapier. He expertly counters with his scythe, aided by the darkness around him.
The air around him gets chilled, and his fingers numb. Rod shouts the last incantations, and Grimm is frozen for an instant. Now mad, a crimson blur slices in front of him, easily felling the unarmored body of the party’s last mage.
Another dagger sinks into his side, and Grimm realizes that the first one has been removed. He turns and takes out his assailant, only barely striking him.
More axe slashes fly around him, some getting too close for comfort. When he tries to aim this last blow past the armor, a magical barrier knocks his scythe out of his hands. Instead of grabbing for his weapon, which is now being guarded by Hatche, he starts preparing a curse, moving his hands around and murmuring silently. He releases the dark powers just as the axe lands on his shoulder. They look at eachother for a moment, daring the other to make the next move, when Hatche collapses.
Grimm is now aware that his darkness has vanished, and that the sky is now as bright as daylight again. “Oh well,” Grimm breathes to himself, as he summons away his blade, “there is no one around.”
At his last word, he feels a sudden pain in his back. Then another in his side. Three more in his ribs. He watches as a purple-vested man lands blow after blow on him, leaving bruises and welts all over. He swings back in retaliation, but to no avail. The world once again darkens, but not enough to stop the punches. As a last resort, he attempts to teleport away. The pain increases, and it gets harder to concentrate on his spell. His vision blurs, and as it fades, he hears the echoing laughter of Knuck, the sadistic monk…